


Staking Claim

by monimala



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gap Filler, I'm Going to Hell, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A filler ficlet for episode 2.8. <i>Kol is a distraction. A detour from this. How Mikael anticipates her every want and teaches her a thousand new ones.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Staking Claim

“Can my son do this for you?” Mikael’s thumb presses into her clit, viciously and generously rotating against the bud until she gasps and the back of her head connects sharply with the wall. “That boy, that _whelp_ , cannot give you what you need.” His whisper is at once condemnation and endearment along the bared column of her throat. But, then again, her whole body is hate and desire.

Her knees dig into his hips. Her ankles beat a wild rhythm against his ass. She rocks into his touch. They both know the truth. Kol is a distraction. A detour from this. How Mikael can find her anywhere, any time. How he anticipates her every want and teaches her a thousand new ones. Doors can't keep him out. Windows allow him to see. Walls only help his cause.

“Answer me, little witch.” He curls two fingers into her and twists. “Does Kol give you this?”

“N-no.” She tightens her arms around his neck, desperate for more friction. For his beard stubble against her breasts and the rough rasp of his hairy legs against her smooth ones. She should feel guilty. Dirty. Ashamed. But all she feels is pleasure…and a mounting frustration because fucking Mikael’s hand isn’t enough. “I need you,” she says like she still has control of him, and of this situation. “I need _all_ of you.”

With a few quick motions between them, his cock is freed from the confines of his fly. Then it’s replacing his fingers, thick and hard and almost too much. Filling her to the point of pain and beyond it. It’s a beautiful hurt. Leaving no room for anything but him and her and the callousness of his passion. Mikael is her first, and so far her only. She’s known it no other way and will never crave it differently. He’s taught her to take it hard and take it deep, and he seats himself within her slowly, in cruel increments. So methodical and maddening that she pulls at his hair and begs him to speed up.

He only laughs that derisive laugh and licks the sweat from the tip of her nose and the line of her jaw. “You brought me back, Davina. I belong here. Buried in you. And no matter how many times you fuck my son you will only ever feel _me_ inside you.”

She doesn’t understand how he can even suggest such a thing right now. When they are this close. Breath and death mingling. Skin against bone. She can barely remember Kol’s face. Because, yes, she brought Mikael back. She gave him life. It’s dark and it’s wrong but it is their reality.

She rolls her hips against his, pistoning up and down and using the wall for leverage. If he’s determined to torment her, she’s doubly invested in making it good. “Can _anyone_ give you this?” she wonders as she leans down to kiss his harsh mouth. “Think about it, Mikael. If you’re a part of me…aren’t I a part of you?” Mikael is everything. Mikael is hers. She may not control him, but she still has _that_ power.

He curses her in a language older than time. But he doesn’t argue, doesn’t disagree. Instead, her carries her to bed. It doesn’t matter that Kol is a few doors down. That Klaus and Marcel are somewhere nearby as well. That discovery and destruction are right around the corner. All that matters is how he kisses her back, his tongue tangling truths with hers no matter how much he wants to lie. All that matters is how they fit together, not making love but making a violent oath. With every “yes” she chants, with every grunt and groan, they seal their fate.

It's not pretty. It's not flowers and roses and a date to Prom. She'll kill him someday, if he doesn't kill her first. Or maybe they'll die together, still screwing, with their hands wrapped around each other's throats.

He's right. Kol can't do that for her. No one else can. 

_"I need you. I need_ all _of you."  
_

_"I belong here. Buried in you."_

She wakes up alone, thighs wet with his seed and throat stained with her blood, and knows with complete certainty that he’ll be back.

Even as she washes, dresses and curls back up like a sweet innocent at rest — the innocent she’ll never be again — she looks forward to it.

She’ll welcome all Mikael has to give.

 

 

\--end--


End file.
